


When The Night Comes

by slash_whump_addict



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Don't Ask Don't Tell, Dubious Consent, Feelings Realization, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 11:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17120549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slash_whump_addict/pseuds/slash_whump_addict
Summary: Whilst on a trading mission Sheppard and his team engage in some local customs. On their return to Atlantis, something is different and Ronon finds that his growing feelings towards Sheppard might not be as one sided as he thought. However, the course of true love never did run smooth…Set during S4, somewhere after Reunion, but before Outcast. Please note this was written and set before DADT was repealed, so contains references to that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LiveJournal way back in 2010, this was the first fic I ever wrote. It has been a WIP since then but have finally found the inspiration to work on finishing it. As my writing style has changed since then, this version is slightly edited though the plot hasn’t changed.

“I still don’t see why we have to come at this time of night,” Ronon complained as he, Sheppard, Rodney and Teyla stepped through the gate to P3M-499, “who the hell holds trade negotiations at dusk? It’s stupid, it’s just… well, it’s just weird!”

The whole team sighed but it was Teyla that spoke, “We are aware that you are not happy about this arrangement, Ronon, as you have told us  _ several _ times. We have discussed this - it was not appropriate to begin trading negotiations without speaking with Dr. Weir first. We had not expected to discuss such things on our initial visit to a new planet.”

“I know that, I was here remember? It just doesn’t feel right, that’s all. I don’t care what their customs are…it’s just -”

“ _ Weird _ ?” interjected McKay in his usual sarcastic tone, while rolling his eyes.

Finally Sheppard spoke, “When in Rome, Rodney, when in Rome.”

“People in Rome used to bugger everyone in sight!” McKay immediately protested, “There’s a limit to what I’ll do for the team, Sheppard, and that’s  _ way beyond it _ !”

“You say that like it’s the end of the world, Rodney, I’d expect a little more commitment from you. Where’s your team spirit?”

Sheppard was obviously amused by his own question judging by the trademark one-sided-smirk-come-smile he was sporting. Ronon didn’t get the joke but the exasperated look from McKay, combined with the wide smile which was now spreading over his face was enough for the Satedan to understand that he was meant to find this funny so he let out a small laugh, at the same time made a mental note to ask Sheppard what buggering was when they got back to Atlantis. Earth terminology was strange but Ronon still liked to know what things meant, he’d had more than a few altercations with several members of the expedition from a lack of understanding of their terminology, so now he made sure he knew what was what.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

The nervous, short mousy haired man whose name had slipped Ronon's mind greeted them at the gate and began to steer them towards the village. He seemed in a hurry to get them there, looking around often. The planet looked different now - almost eerie in this half-light, which made Ronon uneasy. It made it difficult for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings, leaving him reliant on only his hearing and sense of smell.

Not since his days as a Runner had he been in this situation, which made him even more uncomfortable, with a feeling that he was no longer on top of his game - a shadow of his former self. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt like he was losing his edge, despite all the reassurances from Sheppard and Teyla that he was in the same form now as the day he arrived in Atlantis.

His long fingers were itching to unholster his gun, to have the familiar and reassuring weight and shape of it in his hand. Sheppard seemed to have read his mind and Ronon was startled when Sheppard laid a hand in the middle of his back. Using his lightning quick reflexes he spun himself around, pulling out his gun at the same time.

“Easy there, big guy!” Sheppard said soothingly, now wrapping his other hand around Ronon’s wrist to stop him raising it any higher. Ronon’s heart was pounding. He was angry, and if he was honest, more than a little ashamed that he’d been so caught up in trying to sense his surroundings that Sheppard had been able to get so close to him. He was also aware that his carelessness wasn’t the only reason his heart was beating out of its normal rhythm.

Ronon had found himself increasingly aware of Sheppard lately, in ways which he had never been aware of any other man. They’d spent years in each other’s company, on countless missions, sparring, running, movie nights and other social events. In fact Ronon couldn’t think of many occasions when he and Sheppard weren’t together, either alone or with the team; but something was different now.

As the two men looked at each other, Ronon could feel the heat radiating from Sheppard’s hands. It was spreading across his back and wrist, the Colonel’s grip strong on both areas. Ronon’s breath caught as he looked directly into Sheppard’s eyes – he had moved so close that Ronon could smell his familiar scent. Feeling heat rising in his cheeks he quickly looked away, pulling his wrist away from Sheppard’s still firm grip.  “Sorry, old habits.” he croaked.

“I know, buddy. It’s OK,” the Colonel said in a soothing tone, “we’ll get out of here as soon as we can and then I’ll kick your ass in the gym!”

Ronon found himself laughing, the heat in his face fading now, “You mean you can  _ try _ to kick my ass?”

“Hey, give a guy a break, I can live in hope!!” Sheppard threw back, laughing as another grin spread across the taller man’s face before he turned and looked ahead to the rest of the team. The two men had fallen quite far behind and Ronon began to think it would be better for them to stay as a full unit. He was distracted from that thought when he became aware of heat travelling down his back and onto his hip. He looked down to make sure he wasn’t imagining it and saw Sheppard’s hand resting there.

“Uh, buddy…you wanna move your hand?”

Sheppard looked into Ronon’s eyes, then down to where his hand was resting, sounding a little surprised he said “Oh, sorry!”, he looked directly at Ronon again before slowly sliding it away.

Feeling even more flustered at the prolonged contact, now, Ronon nodded towards the rest of the group and they set off, quickening their pace as they went.

“Race you?” Sheppard asked, with that childlike taunting edge in his voice, and then he was off! The younger man was about to catch him up when he found himself helplessly watching the Colonel run. Although the light was fading fast, Ronon could see the petrol blue BDU’s pulled taut over his muscular thighs and backside, and found that actually, he didn’t feel like running right now.


	2. Chapter 2

Ronon was surprised to find that they had reached the village. It had been at least a twenty minute walk from the gate only a few days ago, they couldn’t be there already...could they? For the second time that evening he cursed himself when he realised he’d walked all the way to the village thinking about nothing but Sheppard; and not once considered what was going on around him. He’d allowed his mind to wander, basically trying to imagine what Sheppard looked like under that uniform. 

Countless times they’d both been in the showering areas together and Ronon had never once glanced in the Colonel’s direction, why would he? Only now did he find himself straining to remember any glimpse he may have unknowingly had and bring that image to mind. What the hell was he doing? Sheppard was a team-mate - his _Commanding Officer_ for fuck’s sake – but above all else he was a _man_ , albeit a very good looking one.

During his seven years as a Runner, Ronon had barely spent a night in a village for fear of the Wraith turning up at any minute, let alone had any opportunity to be with a woman. His only partner during those long years had been his own hand. Sex wasn’t a luxury he could afford and for the most part he though little about it, but sometimes when he needed the kind of release that killing or fighting couldn’t bring, he had little option. He didn’t think about anything when he took himself in hand - fantasies were another luxury he couldn’t afford, meaning he did it rough and fast, serving its purpose. The last thing he wanted was to be caught by surprise by a Wraith and be fed on while he still had his dick in his hand. Realising things hadn’t really changed  _ that _ much now, he snorted at the irony of it all.

“Hey! Helloooo? Ronon!”

Looking round he saw McKay stood directly in front of him, waiting expectantly for an answer to a question that the Specialist hadn’t heard.

“What’s going on?” he asked. With his usual level of drama McKay brought Ronon up to speed on what had happened while he’d zoned out. The village elders had invited the team to join in their monthly ceremonial feast of Rypvaem, and they were to be the guests of honour as the village’s latest trading partners -  _ potential _ trading partners Dr. Weir’s voice said in his head. Ronon had never heard of such a ritual, but it was a big galaxy, there was a lot he didn’t know.

They were led to a vast tent like structure which was filled with tables so heavily laden with all manner of fabulous looking foods, and flagons of ale and wine that they looked as though they might collapse at any moment.  Ronon could’ve sworn he heard McKay squeak at the sight.

Sheppard was  unhooking his P90 as he headed towards a seat and sat down next to a dark haired, attractive woman who was showing a little too much cleavage in Ronon’s opinion.

“Typical” he muttered, which was followed by “Every bloody time!” from McKay. Teyla chose a seat on the other side of Sheppard next to a blonde woman with a wide welcoming smile, leaving Ronon no choice but to sit with McKay.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

Some time later Ronon was drinking yet another goblet of the ale provided by the villagers. It was sickly sweet, but satisfyingly strong. McKay had told him it was similar to something they had on Earth called mead crossed with a good English ale. Ronon didn’t care – if they didn’t leave soon he was just going to drink until he passed out. 

He had found himself becoming increasingly frustrated watching the woman with Sheppard draping herself over him. Sheppard didn’t seem to mind at all though, which made the frustration all the worse. He seemed content to let the woman feed him and drink from her goblet as well as his own, and even more content when she leaned in to kiss his neck as well as his lips. That was the last straw, feeling his face flush Ronon let out an audible growl and left the table.

His head was pounding with anger at himself over what felt a lot like jealousy. It was really just an instinct to protect his team…wasn’t it? He found a quiet spot by one of the many fires that were lit around the village and sat, willing himself to calm down. He tried some of the breathing exercises Teyla had taught him during their meditation sessions, but that only made him worse because that led to thoughts of her also teaching Sheppard the same thing. He couldn’t clear his mind no matter how hard he tried.

As he was ready to admit defeat and head back into the feast, he was again startled by someone stood only inches away from him. Fuck, not _again_! Looking up he was relieved to see Teyla standing there with two goblets. He took the one she offered him, thankful it wasn't the wine he'd tasted earlier. It had an earthy, bitter taste that was somehow familiar but that he couldn't place it. It made his head fuzzy in a way he didn’t like, and so he went back to the ale. As he took a long deep drink from the goblet, now, Teyla spoke.

“Ronon is everything OK? You do not seem yourself of late.”

“I’m fine!” he snapped.

She raised one eyebrow and looked at him suspiciously, “If there is something you’d like to talk about…”

Ronon cut her off by standing quickly, “I said I’m  _ fine _ , now will you just leave it?” Before she had a chance to speak again he noticed that she was no longer in uniform. “When did you get changed?”

Teyla’s tone was gentle as she replied, “When it became clear that the villagers were expecting us to stay the night, Colonel Sheppard and I returned to Atlantis to update Dr. Weir on the negotiations, and that we would be staying here tonight. Colonel Sheppard expressed a desire to change into more casual attire and I felt it would be wise for me to do the same.  We tried to find you but one of the villagers told us you were in the company of a young woman, and so we did not wish to …interrupt.”

Ronon snorted. There had been a woman paying him lots of attention, and several times offering him a drink from her goblet of wine. When he refused angrily on her last attempt, she left and he didn’t see her again all night.  “Well next time, I want to know where he is,” he hesitated, hearing the slip in his words, “where you all are, I need to know you’re safe.”

Teyla looked deep into his eyes, “I did not think you would be so upset by our actions. This is most unlike you, my friend.”

Ronon’s glare was enough to stop her pushing the subject any further. Standing herself, she nodded wordlessly towards the tents.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

As they returned to their table Ronon wished he’d stayed outside. When he saw what Sheppard was wearing his breath caught. The older man was sat in the chair - again being pawed by the village woman – in a t-shirt that was enough to make Ronon let out a strangled noise from deep in his throat. He had no idea that a plain black v-neck t-shirt could look so good, but the evidence was there in front of him. As Sheppard reached for his once again filled goblet, his perfectly toned biceps flexed and the movement caused the shirt to pull tighter across his firm chest. Ronon knew he should look away, but he seemed to have lost the ability to control his eyes. Just when he’d almost managed to, Sheppard stood and his resolve faltered even further.

The Colonel was wearing the skinny fit jeans he had bought on his last visit to Earth a few months ago. He remembered being shown them after Sheppard returned, and wondering why the hell he was so excited about a pair of jeans. Now he knew why - they left nothing to the imagination, and Ronon found himself unable to stop staring.

As Sheppard started to leave the table the Satedan’s eyes travelled with him, noting that the jeans showed off his legs and backside even more spectacularly that his BDUs, but most of all, his crotch. Ronon’s throat went dry at the sight. He swallowed in an attempt to moisten it, but found he had no salvia. He felt his own crotch swelling at an alarming rate at the sight of Sheppard on display like this.

“Wouldn’t you just love to get your hands on a body like that?”

For the third time that night Ronon jumped, looking round to find McKay stood next to him. With a sense of dread he watched the scientist, desperately hoping that he hadn't been caught ogling Sheppard like a horny teenager. He followed McKay’s gaze, heart pounding, and to his relief saw that his team mate was looking at the woman with an obvious longing.

“Oh…er...yeah, who wouldn’t?” he found himself saying, hoping he sounded convincing. 

McKay obviously bought it, helped himself to another chicken leg and stuffed it into his mouth. “Lucky bastard! What’s so special about him anyway?” he said around the food.

Ronon watched helplessly as the woman led Sheppard from the tent with a hungry look in her eyes, which by the light of the fires appeared tinged with red. The sickening look of infatuation on Sheppard’s face made Ronon’s stomach turn as he realised with absolute certainty that the Colonel wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight. Still the Sateden couldn’t help his eyes roaming over his friend’s body. Suddenly aware of the fact that he was rock hard, he covered his bulging crotch with his coat and sat down, “No idea,” he spat, aware of the growl in his tone.

As Ronon downed a whole flagon of ale in one, McKay made a mumbled comment about cavemen which he ignored, all he cared about right now was getting as drunk as possible, as soon as possible.


End file.
